warriorsfanficfandomcom-20200213-history
Crystal Heart/One
The faint crackle of thunder splits the still air, the scent of blood starting to be masked by the coming storm, and everyone is in their dens resting, like nothing even happened. The motionless body of a cat lying in the grassy clearing is the only thing that tells a tragic story. Her gray form looks tiny out in the open, alone. The noble, proud leader is gone. Her neck has the slightest slit in it that caused her death. I lay in front of her, just sitting with her. She looks like she's asleep. I think back to earlier this very day, how upset with me she was. Me and my brother, we got into some trouble, she found out and told us to check the elders for ticks. My brother obeyed her, but I defyed. She couldn't order me around. She got mad, we started fighting, in the end, she broke down in tears. I didn't care, I hated her in that moment. I walked away, she didn't stop me. I left camp to hunt, to try to get my mind off it. I caught some prey, only to return to find her lying dead, bleeding on the ground, the cats standing here and there, mouths gaping in horror. I dropped my prey, but I stayed where I was. My brother was crying over her, but I didn't go comfort him. I crept away, I didn't want anyone to see me, to come running up to me, trying to give me support. I sat in the shadow of a tall clump of grass, looking out at the clearing. I didn't feel anything, not sad, not mad. I felt nothing. After awhile, the cats slipped away into their dens to shelter for the storm. Now she was left all alone in the clearing. I took my chance, stepped out of the shadows and silently walked over to her. My mother is dead. The words repeat in my mind every few moments. Now I don't know if I feel anything, now it just feels like nothing's real, but I'm still not sad. I sit in front of her, breathing in her scent, which is a mix of lavender and death, her old scents gone with her spirit. I start to feel angry, I really don't know why. Why should I be mad? Who am I mad at? Not her? I can't be! she's dead! I've gotten over what happened earlier. I don't know who killed her, and I really don't care. So I can't be mad at him. Now I'm thinking, my father, mother, sister are all gone. My sister, who left the Clan, it was all my fault. I'm not sad though. And yet I still feel this strange anger inside me. Who am I so mad at? This is stupid. I hardly knew my father before he died, but mother says I got his handsome looks, and his personality. Whatever she meant by that. I don't care about him, since he was never part of my life anyway. In fact, now that I think about it, my birth broke the code. My mother was RockClan's leader, and my father was their medicine cat, and they had me and my siblings. So really, we're a mistake. Ha, I'm a mistake, it's really funny to think of it like that. I don't know why I'm thinking about this; it's stupid and doesn't matter. Rain starts to drizzle lightly over the calm moor as I get to my paws and turn my back on Wolfstar. I begin to pace around the clearing, ignoring my pelt which is getting more and more soaked by the minute. I move out of the path of tussocks and heather clumps. I'm blind, but I'm not some idiot. I know how to hear and scent, I can easily find my way past them. "I'm sorry, Morningpaw." I hear a voice. I turn my head. It's Runningstrike and Ioheart's daughter, Winterkit. She's sitting under a heather clump. "Sorry about what?" I ask her, in an annoyed tone. Winterkit is really annoying. She always yowls at everyone to watch her climb up a rock, or bat a stick. Wow, you made it up a pebble... that's not really amazing. And she's a stupid kit. All kits are stupid. Winterkit crawls out from under the heather, revealing her abnormally white pelt. "Wolfstar is dead," she murmurs. I can't see her eyes or face, but I can tell she's concerned. "Haven't you heard?" "Of course I've heard! How could I miss that?" I snap at her. To my surprise, I sense she doesn't duck away or act annoyed, like everyone else does when I snap. She just keeps calm. Weird. "You don't seem very sad," she points out. "I don't have to be sad if I don't want to be!" I growl at her. Like she knows this stuff, she's only like five moons old. "Of course you should be! She was your mother! Don't you feel anything?" Winterkit asks, not getting a snappy harsh tone like everyone else does when they speak with me, just keeps on drilling me for answers, calmly. I surprise myself. I don't feel mad. I know she's drilling me, but I don't care this time. I realize my fur is bristled, I let it lie flat. I feel a little calmer now after seeting her a bit. IT's amazing, really. She's not screaming in my face, all angry and annoying. "I do, I just don't feel... sad," I murmur, not in a harsh voice, my normal voice is always harsh and annoyed, but this time it's not, it's smooth, like honey. I like honey. "You feel angry," Winterkit says suddenly, not in a questioning tone, but like she knows ''she's right. And she is right. "I..." I mumble. I'm too dumbfounded to even reply. How does she know? She can't read minds. Am I making it clear that I'm mad? I can't be! I'm acting like I always do. "How did you know?" I ask. I need to know how she spotted something about me, she could use it to toy with me, to destroy me. I need to know so I can rpotect myself in the future. "Something tragic happened. You should feel sad, but instead you feel mad. You regret something, don't you?" she pressuses me. My pelt begins to prickle in unease. What's wrong with this kit? But now that she's mentioned it, I can feel a bit of regret mixed in my anger. But I push her question aside. She doesn't need to know! "Back off!" I hiss, taking a step back. She doesn't move, I can tell she doesn't even blink, which makes me feel even more uneasy. I whip away before she can reply and march to the apprentices' den. The whole way there, I can feel her eyes boring into my back. ''How does she know?